DedSec Thanksgiving
by aboringday
Summary: Sitara gets the gang together for thanksgiving dinner at her place, but her plans to create a successful meal for her friends crash and burn miserably. Marcus sweeps in to comfort her. With his help, she realized thanksgiving isn't about the food, it's about expressing love and gratitude for those closest to her. And Marcus had a whole lot of love to give. (MarcusxSitara)


**Hey guys! This is a fluffy, erotic one-shot I decided to write for thanksgiving! It's in Sitara's POV, and is the very first of my collection of one-shots. I got the idea to make this smutty due to an request from an anon who read my Chasing Shadows series. Shout out to Dolliefaced, thank you again for your support. 3 Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic, happy thanksgiving!**

* * *

 **Sitara**

Today was the big day the crew has all been waiting for— thanksgiving. We promised to put our commitment to DedSec and all of prior engagements to the cause aside for one day only, so we could focus on having a normal, ordinary dinner together. And I was damn excited for it, we deserved a break from worrying about the greedy corporate assholes, and the greater good of the people. The only thing that mattered today was filling our bellies, and getting some much needed relaxation.

Having a thanksgiving dinner with the crew was all my idea, and the food had to be perfect. I was far from a good cook, but practice made perfect. The problem was, my small, modern kitchen was just as much of a mess as the hackerspace. The sink was brimmed with dirty dishes, and the counters were cluttered with empty beer bottles, and old Chinese take-out containers. There were so many globs of sticky soy sauce smeared on the appliances too. I've been spending so much time at the hackerspace, I never cared to waste the time cleaning the house.

But there was no time for that now. Suited with cooking mittens and an apron around my neck, I spent hours and hours preparing the turkey. It was nearly done now, only a few more minutes before the glorious bird was ready to be eaten. I took in a deep breath, savoring the smoky, delicious aroma of oven-roasted turkey. "Isn't it beautiful?" I asked aloud, as I watched the turkey cook to golden brown perfection through the window of my stove.

"Mmm, it sure smells good, girl." Marcus replied. Positioned before the kitchen counter with a knife in hand, Marcus managed to dispose of some of the clutter, and began cutting through celery stalks, potatoes and onions carefully, in preparation of homemade potato salad. He arrived at my apartment this morning and has been helping me cook and prepare for our dinner ever since. Without his help, I'd be so far behind schedule. If there was anything to be thankful for this thanksgiving, it was definitely Marcus.

"Meh, turkey doesn't deserve nearly as much hype as it gets," Wrench said. He stumbled about the kitchen aimlessly as we cooked, occasionally lifting his mask just slightly to raise the beer bottle in his grasp to his lips. He's guzzled down four drinks so far, and was working on the fifth. "It's like, the driest meat you could ever eat. Beef is so much better— I'd die to have a juicy piece of steak right about now."

"It's thanksgiving Wrench," I grumbled. "We're supposed to eat turkey, okay? Not steak. Do you know how much work it took for me to cook this thing?"

Josh stood quietly beside Marcus at the kitchen counter. Brows furrowed, and eyes rarely blinking, his focus was locked on the vegetables Marcus chopped with quick precision. Josh has been hanging around my apartment since last night. He hasn't been very helpful with the cooking, but I enjoyed his company nonetheless. "It took approximately twenty-four hours to thaw." Josh stated, his voice monotone as usual. "Ten minutes and nine seconds to clean. It should have been twenty, considering Sitara mistakenly dropped the turkey on the floor before putting it in the oven—"

"Wait, hold on a sec'," Wrench gazed at Josh. "What do you mean she dropped the turkey?"

"So what if I did drop it?" I glared at him.

"It's unsanitary, that's what."

"Since when did you care about cleanliness, Wrench?"

"News flash, I care about what I eat. You cleaned it after you dropped it, right?"

"Of course I did." I turned away from the stove and flashed a smile at the boys. "I cleaned it with the toughest disinfectant around— bleach."

The kitchen grew silent. Marcus let out an awkward cough. I could feel Wrench's eyes boring into me from behind the lenses of his mask.

My face burned. "What?"

The boys exchanged wary glances with one another. "S-she didn't say bleach, did she?" Wrench stammered. "Hey M, why'd you let her clean the turkey with bleach?"

Marcus shook his head. "Don't look at me man. When I got here this morning, the bird was already in the oven."

"What's the big deal guys?" I asked. "When the turkey fell on the floor, I dropped it in a bucket of bleach to make sure it was squeaky clean. The last thing I wanted was to serve my best friends a dirty birdy. Besides, we use bleach to clean to clean everything else, don't we? Why not use it on our food too?"

"Your logic is fucked, Sitara," Wrench retorted. "What if a kid drops his cracker on the floor? Would you clean it with bleach?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Why not? It'll be the cleanest cracker that kid ever eats. I bet he'd thank me later."

"Actually, he may die from sodium hypochlorite poisoning," Josh said. "Even mild exposure can cause vomiting and delirium, possibly a coma and even death if you consume enough—"

"And that's my cue to leave, folks," Wrench took off for the kitchen exit. "For future reference, remind me not to eat anything Sitara cooks ever again—"

"Wait!" I skipped in front of him. "Where are you going? You promised you were spending thanksgiving here with us."

Wrench crossed his sinewy arms over his chest. "I did, under the presumption that I wouldn't die from poisonous chemicals."

"Stop being so dramatic, the turkey is fine!" I clenched his studded jacket desperately. "Please Wrench, don't go. You made a promise to celebrate the holiday with us, you have to keep it."

"Nope, how do I know you didn't drench the potato salad in bleach too?"

"Nah, I'm in charge of the potato salad dude," Marcus said. "This is my momma's homemade recipe, no bleach involved. And I'll have you know, can't nobody cook as good as my momma can."

"I second that, I've tasted his mom's food before," Josh added. "There's nothing like it."

"Okay well, save me a plate of momma's potato salad then," Wrench gazed at me. "No offense Sitara, but thanksgiving is nothing but a fucking scam for food industries to maximize sells, and pocket even more of our hard-earned cash, just like valentine's day and the rest of the bullshit holidays the government brainwashed consumers to revere. They don't give a rat ass about being thankful, or family bonding. I'm done playing into the propaganda. I'm outta here." Wrench pulled away from me and took off for the exit.

"Wrench!" I called out to him in desperation, but he completely ignored me. Nostrils flaring and muscles quivering, I snatched off my mittens and apron, and tossed them to the floor in a fit of rage. Wrench could be such an asshole sometimes.

"Sitara?" Marcus asked. "You gonna be alright?"

"No, I'm not," I shook my head. "Wrench made a promise—"

"We need cranberry sauce," Josh interrupted, completely unfazed by Wrench's untimely departure. "We can't have thanksgiving dinner without cranberry sauce."

I stole a glare at Josh. I was tempted to lash out at him, but it wasn't fair to take my anger with Wrench out on him. So I bit my tongue, swallowed my temper, and began shuffling through the rustic wooden kitchen cabinets for the cranberry sauce ingredients. I combined the sugar and water in a medium sauce pan, and impatiently watched the mixture cook over electric stovetop. Once it began to boil, I grabbed the cranberries from the fridge and dropped them in the pan.

"I can't believe he'd just ditch us like that," I said, stirring the sauce with a large spoon. "I thought we were family."

"We are family Sitara," Marcus replied. "But are you really surprised that Wrench hates thanksgiving? The guy hates every holiday, even Christmas."

"It doesn't matter, he should've followed through on his promise. I'm not letting this one go anytime soon, he knew how special today was to me."

"Maybe you shouldn't have put the turkey in bleach," Josh said. "I think Wrench would have stayed otherwise."

"Whatever." I took a sip of cranberry sauce. It tasted sweet, but needed to be a little thicker. "The cranberry sauce is coming along nicely. Wrench is missing out—"

I paused, the sudden smell of burning seeped into my nostrils. I looked down, and spotted thick tendrils of grey smoke coming from the stove. Startled, I threw open the oven door, and the shock of what I witnessed inside left me breathless and mortified.

The turkey was completely engulfed in flames.

"Fire!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, arms flailing helplessly in the air as black smoke filled the space.

Marcus sped to the rescue, grabbing a metal lid from God knows where, and dropping it on top of the flaming bird. The lid smothered the raging flames and snuffed out the fire.

"Holy shit," Marcus muttered, turning the oven off with a twist of a dial. "Y'all okay?"

"I-I can't breathe." Wheezing and coughing for air, Josh stormed out of the kitchen to escape the smoke.

My sight grew blurry and wet. My knees felt so weak, I had to hold onto the kitchen counter to stop myself from falling. I was so embarrassed. Today couldn't get any freaking worse.

"You okay?" Marcus asked.

"No, I'm not friggin' okay!" I snapped, my voice choked with emotion. "Everything is ruined. Today was such a huge waste of time."

A hand touched over my back. I glanced behind me, and spotted Marcus. He smiled warmly, his fingers gently wiped away the tears brimming on my eyelids. "Yeah, things went far from smoothly today, but it wasn't a waste. I had a blast whipping up food with you. You gotta admit, it was nice spending some time away from the hackerspace for once, wasn't it?"

"I guess, but thanksgiving isn't supposed to be like this. There's supposed to be a giant, yummy turkey to feast on with family and friends. Because of me, everyone is gone, and all we have to show for it is a gross, burnt-up, bleach poisoned turkey. It's pathetic."

Marcus chuckled, his calloused hand massaged my tense shoulders gently. "Thanksgiving isn't about the turkey though. It's about spending the day with loved ones, and being thankful for one another. I don't care how much bleach you put up in that turkey girl. I don't care how burnt and gross it is either— I'm still with you. I'm not going anywhere."

"Thanks Marcus," I sniffed and closed my eyes, his tender touch released the tension from my muscles. "You're always right where I need you."

He enclosed his strong arms around my waist, and held me against his muscular body lightly. It was so hard to hold onto anger while captured in his embrace. His closeness alone made me feel so safe and secure. My stomach fluttered, and for a moment, everything in our screwed-up world felt okay. I was content and happy so long as he was near.

He never ceased to have this effect on me, ever since he joined DedSec. We were always so caught up in being public watch dogs, freeing the world from corporate greed, exploitation and the like, that I never got a chance to take a breather and really acknowledge my feelings for him. But what was stopping me now? Today was our one free day from work, to do whatever the Hell our heart desired. And maybe, if I opened my heart to him, Marcus could turn my crappy day around.

"You feelin' alright now?" Marcus grasped my hand, and massaged my knuckles.

"Better than before, thanks to you," I smiled weakly. "By the way, I didn't know you were so good at massages."

He grinned. "You'd be surprised what these hands can do."

"Oh yeah? I'd love to hear more about that."

"I rather show than tell." His full lips brushed over my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "Join me in the living room for a beer? Promise I'll make it worth your while."

A nervous giggle escaped me. "Sure, I'm dying to be out of this kitchen."

Marcus grabbed two beers from the refrigerator, and led me out of the kitchen, into the living room. The November wind rattled the windows and blew brisk air into the space. It felt so good against my sweaty skin, I wasted away so many hours the searing kitchen, the room's chilly atmosphere was a welcome change of scenery.

Hand in hand, Marcus escorted me to my leather couch. "Take a seat, girl. Lay down and get comfortable, you deserve it."

"Don't mind if I do," I collapsed onto the couch, lying prone across the soft cushions. "You have no idea how good it feels to be off my feet. I really don't think I was cut out for this whole thanksgiving thing. I have a newfound respect for people who can brave the heat of the kitchen all day."

"Yeah, it's a lot harder than it looks." Marcus handed me my beer, and set his down on the floor beside him. Then he sat on the edge of the couch, slipped off his messenger bag, and propped my feet on his lap. He took a moment to untie my shoes, eventually slipping them off and placing them aside. "So, you ever had a foot massage before?"

"Um, no. But I'm totally open to the idea."

"Good." His hands smoothed up my right ankle, and gradually pulled down my knee-high sock. With no more articles of clothing to protect my leg, he seized my foot and tenderly massaged my soles with his thumbs. It was crazy how a man like Marcus, so strong and masculine, was capable of being so delicate. I adored every moment of his loving caresses.

Marcus' deep brown gaze studied my thighs, and smoldered with intensity as I lied vulnerable before him. "Sorry I've been more forward than usual today. I know it's sudden and weird, but we always have so much going on, there's never any time for me and you to just vibe together, no distractions. It'd be dope to get to know you on a deeper level. I've wanted that for a while now."

His words had me smiling from ear to ear. "You don't have to apologize Marcus, we both want the same thing. But honestly, after everything we've been through, I feel like we know each other pretty well already."

"Nah, I can guarantee there's plenty of things you don't know about me."

"Seriously? Like what?"

"I bet you have no idea how badly I've been crushing on you," he grinned nervously, his beautiful brown cheeks flushed a deep red. "The struggle is real girl, it's been getting harder and harder to focus at the hackerspace with you around. I can barely keep my eyes off you. You are so beautiful, Sitara."

His confession rendered me speechless. My heartbeat skyrocketed. "M-Marcus…"

"I know it's a lot to swallow." His expression grew somber. "If I'm making you uncomfortable, just say the word and I'll fall back—"

"N-no, don't." I set my beer down, sat up and cupped his stubbled cheeks. I gazed searchingly into his brown eyes, observing the subtle hues of bronze starbursts around his pupils. Behind the thick lenses of his glasses were eyes laced with a vulnerability, and compassion I've never perceived within him before. For someone who constantly carried around such a suave and confident bravado, I couldn't rationalize why he'd completely let down his guard for me. Was his confession and intimate caresses based purely on lust? Or something more?

Slowly, Marcus gravitated close, giving me more than enough time to pull away, but I couldn't— I wouldn't. I trusted him too much. His soft lips brushed over the corner of my mouth. "Say something," he whispered, the scent of his woodsy aftershave rose from the collar of his hoodie, and danced around my nostrils.

I cleared my throat, struggling to pull together my composure. "Marcus, if you do this— if you kiss me, it changes everything between us. Our friendship will never be the same. You realize that, don't you?"

"I'm ready to take that leap, if you are. I think we could build something real together."

"But you could be with anyone. I've got so much baggage— I get jealous easily, I have terrible mood swings, I'm painfully judgmental, and ambitious, and stubborn and pushy… the list goes on and on. And worst of all, I can't cook to save my life. Why the heck would you choose a girl like me?"

"Your flaws make you who you are, and I wouldn't change them for the world." His fingers stroked through the ends of my ponytail. "Sure, you have a temper, and yeah, you are a shitty cook."

"Douche," I punched his shoulder playfully.

"Not to brag but, dealing with bad tempers is kinda my thing, all it takes is a little patience and compassion. Secondly, I think it's sexy when you boss me around. Lastly, I know my way around the kitchen, so you wouldn't have to worry about cooking if you had me. See, we complement each other, don't we?"

I chuckled shyly, my cheeks were practically burning with heat. "If you put it that way, I guess we do complement each other."

He smiled sweetly. "So, what's it gonna be girl? You down to try this?"

"How could I resist that charming smile?" I wrapped my arms around his strong neck. "What are you waiting for? Kiss me already."

He captured my lips in a slow, clinging kiss. My heart hammered against my chest. I couldn't believe this was happening, it seemed so unreal, so very sudden yet amazing. A jolt of electricity tore through me, and I found myself climbing onto his lap, straddling him. The kiss deepened, his tongue teased apart my lips and delved into my mouth. Our tongues wrestled and danced with one another, and our lips moved together in a perfect, tantalizing melody.

Marcus abruptly withdrew from me to unhook my scarf from around my neck. I helped him peel off his jacket, sweater and undershirt hidden beneath, and tossed them aside. My mouth watered observing the broad planes of his chest and flawlessly sculpted abdomen.

"Wow," I smoothed my palms over his warm, hard stomach. "You are such a stud muffin."

"Stud muffin? Really?" He stripped off my oversized sweater. "That's the best you can come up with?"

"Yep, I think it describes you perfectly. You have the type of body a girl could feast on—" I leapt into a stance, a brilliant idea popped into my mind. "Stay there, handsome. I'll be right back." I sped toward the kitchen, grabbed the cranberry sauce pan and returned to the living room.

"What's that for?" Marcus asked, his brows furrowed.

"The cranberry sauce is the only thing I successfully cooked today, and I won't let it go to waste. I'm gonna celebrate my achievement by devouring it in the best way possible— off your stomach."

"What? Are you for real?"

"You can bet your ass I'm for real."

"Damn, that's kinky. Fuck yeah, let's do it."

"Keep still, it's kinda hot."

I carefully poured some of the heated sauce over his abs. He gasped, and cringed uncomfortably for a moment, but eventually adjusted to the warm moisture seeping down his chiseled pectoral muscles. I leaned over and brushed my lips over his stomach, savoring the sweet, thick juices. I ran my tongue all over his smooth skin, down to the waistband of his jeans and back up again, enjoying every curve and contour of his toned body.

Marcus snickered as I flicked my tongue over his belly button. "Hey, quit it. That tickles."

"Aw, but it's so cute when you laugh," I teased.

"Nuh-uh." He rose and swept me into his arms, carefully lying me down on my back. He nudged my thighs apart, and settled his powerful body between them. "You licking cranberry sauce off my stomach felt surprisingly good. Keep still baby, let me return the favor."

I nodded, my muscles twitched with anticipation. Marcus pecked my lips, and planted a tantalizing trail of kisses along my chin, down to my neck. He stimulated the sensitive flesh near my collarbone as he worked off my bra. I flushed, clawing my fingers over his broad back. Once my breasts were free from their constraints, he kissed his way to my cleavage, hungrily enveloping my erect nipple within his mouth, while squeezing and caressing the other with his palm.

"Marcus…" I sighed, combing my fingers through his soft, curly hair. It was getting so hot in here. It seemed as if he fondled me for ages, my core began to dampen and grow uncomfortably moist, and all I could do was tremble helplessly beneath him. With our bodies molded so close together, I could feel the stiffness in his midsection bulging against the confides of his jeans with every slight movement he made.

After what seemed like forever, he set my sore, flustered nipples free and nuzzled his face against mine. "Tell me what you want, girl," Marcus said, his voice deep and husky with arousal. "I'll do anything, whatever you're comfortable with."

"Anything?" I mumbled breathlessly. "Will you eat a slice of the turkey I cooked?"

He smirked. "Anything but that."

"Fine. Do you have any condoms on you?"

"I think I have some in my messenger bag." Marcus reached down and rooted through his bag lying at the foot of the couch. After a moment or so, he successfully liberated a condom wrapper from the depths. "There we go, looks like we're in business."

"Took you long enough."

"Perseverance wins the race." He sat up on his knees, and held the condom wrapper out to me.  
"You wanna do the honors, baby?"

I swallowed deeply. "U-um sure thing, why not?" I unbuckled his jeans and carefully undid the zipper. Hesitantly, I dipped my hand into his pants and gripped onto something lengthy, hard and thick, which I concluded to undoubtedly be his hard-on. I drew it from the confides of his boxer briefs, and into the open. My eyes widened at the sight of it. His hardness was engorged and throbbing, and was much bigger than anyone I've ever been with.

"Jeez, you sure that thing is gonna fit?" I asked, tearing the condom wrapper open and securing his thickness snugly within a latex sheath.

"Hey, that's my pride and glory you're talking about," Marcus fumbled with the buttons of my shorts. "And yeah, he should fit just fine. I'll try not to hurt you girl. I'll be gentle."

He helped me wriggle out of my jeans and panties. His eyes, smoldering with intensity, studied my naked body, down from my head to my toes. Unnerved by his staring, I clenched his shoulders and pulled him close. "I hate it when you stare, Marcus."

"Why? Your body is a work of art, it deserves to be admired. I could sit and stare at you all day and night." He kissed my cheek, and slipped his fingers between my thighs, lightly stroking my damp core.

I panted with frustration and pleasure, my insides were on fire, aching to be filled— I couldn't take much more of the tortuous foreplay. It was driving me crazy. "Marcus, I need you to fuck me. Right now."

He complied obediently, tilting his hips forward. My stomach twisted in knots of fear and excitement, as his throbbing shaft eased into my entrance. I shuddered, a loud involuntary gasp escaped me. My muscles stretched and stung painfully as he penetrated me. "Oh God…" I whimpered, raking my nails into his back.

Marcus crashed his lips into mine passionately, sucking and nibbling delicately on my lower lip. The hot, bruising kiss distracted me from my discomfort. I melted into it, his passion and desire was electrifying. It wasn't long before he was seated inside me, and the pain had faded away. Jolts of sensations sparked through me from all the very slight movements Marcus made as he waited for me to adjust to his girth. I could even feel him with every subtle breath he took in.

He broke the kiss, and gazed into my eyes. "You alright baby?"

"I am now," I whispered into his ear, wrapping my legs around his waist.

Marcus pulled out of me tortuously slow, only to sink right back in. He withdrew and filled me over and over in a tender rhythm, my hips rocked to meet every thrust. His movements sent pleasurable aches throughout my body, the sensations so amazing, I couldn't manage to control myself. I clung to him shamelessly, moaning his name time and time again. His smoldering sight remained locked on me, gazing deeply into my eyes as he made delicate love to me. And at that very moment, staring into that soft, beautiful brown gaze of his, I thought I had finally found true love.

"Fuck…" Marcus groaned, gripping my hips roughly, sliding deeper inside me. "You feel so good baby, damn."

"Marcus, don't stop," I pleaded, my eyes glistened, and pleasure raging and building with my core. "Don't hold back, fuck me harder, faster."

His rhythm picked up the pace at my command, drilling into me. An intense physical sensation darted through me, an overwhelming mixture of pleasure and pain forced me to shudder and writhe violently. I cried out, burying my face in his neck and imbedding my nails deep into his shoulder blades, drawing blood. A low grunt emerged from the depths of his throat. He captured my wrists and pinned them over my head with one hand, and used the other to grasp my chin, demanding me to look up at him.

The pleasure abruptly deepened, his fast, hard thrusts ignited a flame within my insides, spiraling me closer and closer to an orgasm. Marcus' breathing grew harsher, cold beads of salty sweat rolled down the broad planes of his hot chest and onto mine. He grappled a fistful of my hair and rammed into me even faster, letting go off all restraint and control. I wailed, exploding in ecstasy, riding out the waves of my climax on his swollen length, until I was completely limp, sore and drained. Marcus shuddered, silently reaching his peak, shooting his load into the condom. He collapsed on top of me, panting for breath.

I was on cloud nine, beaming like a giddy school girl at the ceiling, my heart full and stomach tingling with butterflies. I embraced Marcus tightly, and nibbled boldly on the crook of his thick neck, my lips sucked sloppily, and tormented his salty, sensitive flesh.

"Mmm, trying to get me in the mood for round two?" Marcus teased.

"You wish," I planted one last kiss on his neck. "You wouldn't believe how sore I am right now."

"Damn, really?" He studied me closely, his thick brows furrowed with concern. "I'm sorry baby, was I too rough?"

"It's fine handsome, I told you not to hold back. It's my fault. Besides, you're not the only one who should be apologizing." I flashed him my bloody fingertips. "I totally didn't mean to go cat-woman on you."

"It's cool, I like it rough. I'm not really sure if that's your thing though."

"Well, it depends on my mood."

"Regardless, this is all on me. I should have been more considerate. You mean the world to me girl. If I could help it, I'd never hurt you. Ever." His nose nuzzled mine cutely. I giggled happily, his touch tickled. "My bad, I've been waiting and fantasizing about being with you for so long, and it felt so damn good, I guess I got a little too into it and lost control…"

He went on and on, apologizing for his mistake and vowing to be more delicate next time around. But his words went through one ear and out the other. I was too distracted staring into his brown eyes, admiring the gorgeous, faint hues of bronze around his pupils. His gaze was still so vulnerable, warm and soft. I've adored Marcus for such a long time, and the feeling kept growing and intensifying. My heart began to race like mad just thinking about it.

"… and its crazy because I feel like everyone should be in charge of their own actions," Marcus continued to ramble. "Of course, there's exceptions if you got like, a psychological problem or if you're too young to make rational decisions. But then again, what if none of us are in control of our decisions and we're actually being controlled by an evil scientist, or some kind of higher power? Or what if you and I are just part of some computer simulation and the world we live in isn't even real? Wouldn't that be some shit—"

"Marcus, I love you," I blurted out.

Stunned by my sudden confession, he gaped at me blankly for a moment, cheeks blushing a light red. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "W-what uh… what did you just say?"

I snickered to myself, he was such a dork sometimes. "I said, I love you Marcus." I clasped his strong hand, and kissed his palm gently. "I just had to say it, trying to hold it in was killing me."

He beamed at me sweetly, his blush deepening. "You know, I heard a lot of definitions of love. Some people say it's when you can't stop thinking about a person, that you ache to be with them, and when they're not around, you feel like half a man. Others claim love is when you're aware of a person's flaws, and still want to be with them anyway. My dad thinks it's when you can imagine yourself waking up beside someone for the rest of your life. My mom thinks its honesty and trust."

"What do you think it is?" I asked.

"I think it's all of that combined girl. That's how I came to realize my feelings for you. I wasn't planning on admitting it anytime soon but…" He drew me into his warm embrace. "I love you too Sitara."

Eyes watering, the realization that our feelings for one another was mutual literally reduced me to tears. "Seriously?" I sniffed, voice cracking. "You mean it?"

"Hell yeah, I do. I wouldn't lie about shit like this." He kissed my forehead. "Hey, you wanna take a shower and order some take-out? My treat, we can have our own thanksgiving dinner, fuck a turkey and everyone else. We can binge watch movies, hack some shit, nerd out on some videos games— whatever you want. Today, it's just you and me against the world. You down?"

"Of course I am, stud muffin. You and me against the world, huh? I can get used to that."

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed reading! Happy thanksgiving! Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks so much for reading. I'm taking requests for future one-shots, if there's any character pairings, or interesting scenarios you'd like to read about, please leave a review or inbox me a request. I'd be more than happy to write about it.**


End file.
